


New Years Sucks

by Paxella



Category: Rules of Engagement (TV)
Genre: M/M, New Years, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paxella/pseuds/Paxella
Summary: Things are starting to feel peculiar for Russell one New Years Eve.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set between seasons 6 and 7. // Filled for a prompt: New Years kiss, 500 words or less, no overthinking.

The New Years' party had started the same as always at the office, with plenty of mindless chatter, mediocre baked goods, and people seemingly "enjoying themselves"...Russell hated it. If his name hadn't been on the building, he wouldn't have bothered showing up. His time would have been better spent at happy hour, where the real party was happening...the one with the young women who'd been drinking just enough to find the prospect of making him their New Years' lay appetizing.

The flask hidden securely in his jacket was the only thing helping, and he took another swig, savoring the sting against his throat. God, he really needed to get drunk after this.

Everybody was so ridiculously happy.

The office couples were the worst of the lot, looking at their watches every few minutes in anticipation of that midnight kiss. Three minutes to go...three stupid minutes until the countdown.

And he was alone.

That's when it happened. The first trickle of a stupid, inconceivable thought: _Where is he?_

"What? Why?" Having asked the question out loud, a random straggler stopped behind him; he brushed the woman away with a scowl.

 _You know why._ Russell looked around for the source of the voice in his head, and, realizing it was his own, groused a bit, taking another swig of much needed alcohol.

Two minutes; he was growing antsy. He stared at his own watch now, blindly, as if in anticipation of something...somehow the seconds had blurred away as he made his way towards his office door, escaping the crowd who began counting down.

"Five...four...!"

The words echoed in his head: _Where the hell is he?_ As if he was supposed to be here with him right now, as if it mattered at all.

"Three...!"

He just had some crap for him to do, y'know? Work stuff.

"Two...!"

The world didn't stop for another planetary rotation and some assholes kissing.

"One!"

Russell opened his office door to find two figures leaning against his desk; lips locked. A soft kiss, appearing sincere and full of all the romance this night was meant to embody; the very thing he'd entered his office to escape.

He'd been seen, and the couple broke, the woman brushing hair from her face bashfully as she coyly touched the face of her New Years' kiss before sneaking out past Russell.

Timmy met eyes with Russell briefly before aiming to leave as well, but was stopped by an arm across the door.

"Who was that?"

Russell's voice was strangely accusatory, and Timmy paused, taken aback. "Janet. Accounting. Recently unattached, she...needed someone. I was here, so..." He lowered Russell's arm, moving a touch slower as he eyed Russell carefully.

Timmy turned back. "Are you alright, sir?"

They stood in such close proximity that it made the air thick...warm; Russell's breath caught.

"Uh...yeah." He shook his flask. "My date. Go get your chick."

Timmy left...hesitantly. Russell retreated to his desk...and drank.

And wondered.


	2. Chapter 2

The girl was enchanting, but Timmy felt a nagging in his gut; an inexplicable tugging, as if he were forgetting something; he wasn't sure what it could be.

She addressed him with a smile, and he finished replenishing her cup of punch before observing his surroundings. The party was pleasant, typical office shindig, and everyone who had bothered to stay past midnight seemed to be enjoying themselves, somehow a tad punch drunk...Timmy looked to the cup in his hand, and reconsidered taking a sip, certain it had been spiked.

He drank it anyway...and apologized to the girl, who appeared rather perturbed by his abrupt dismissal. A minute later he was standing in his doorway, almost apologetically; as if he had something to apologize for, as if he hadn't ought to have left.

Russell wasn't sure at first how to respond to Timmy's return, but he had little time to figure it out, as a moment later he'd closed the door and approached the desk, speaking casually, as if he'd never left.

"Last year, we skipped the party. Went to that little bar with the, uhm..."

"Strip club."

"Yes, the strip club."

"You were pissed."

Timmy leaned against Russell's desk with a sigh. "You might have warned me that you'd paid a women to gyrate against me all night."

Russell suppressed a laugh. " _So_ pissed."

"May I?"

Russell looked to the flask in his hand, having gone to take a swig...and handed it to Timmy. He watched a bit too carefully as Timmy's mouth pressed light against the hard steel, liquid passing through his lips...softly, easily; his eyes passed by Timmy's throat, watching his adam's apple move gently as he swallowed.

Russell nearly missed Timmy handing the flask back. "Sir?"

Russell swallowed firmly, attempting to drive down the strange fog that had suddenly clouded his mind as he retrieved it, and fingered the mouthpiece very slowly as Timmy carried on speaking.

"So this is it."

"What...what's that?" Russell brought the flask slowly towards his own lips, hovering just beyond his mouth, as though in consideration...as though the flask was new, different somehow. God, he wanted to taste...that flask. He wanted...he...wanted...to...

"It's a new year. Happy New Year, sir."

Russell pulled the flask away, looking back to Timmy. He scoffed, his voice small, lost somewhere.

"Whatever. New year, same old crap. Nothing ever changes."

"Oh, I don't know. I feel as though a great deal may change for us this year."

The men looked to one another in hushed acknowledgement of the statement; 'For us.' Timmy shook his head, brow furrowing.

"Uhm...that is to say...the company. Expansions, mergers, a great deal of--"

"Yeah, sure."

"Yes."

The silence was killing them both; Russell offered up a solution. "Hey, Tim, you wanna get out of here?"

"Yes." Timmy's smile was enough to drive the fog back into Russell's brain, but he forced it back down.

"But no strip clubs," Timmy added shortly.


End file.
